Truth
by Schuyler Lola
Summary: They always said the truth hurt. A series of oneshots, describing the reactions to episode 3.24 The Janus List.
1. The Observer

**Disclaimer: **Don't own 'em, will return 'em.

**A/N: **After the season three finale, and the shock I have sustained, I had this idea. And I'm still terrified of what might happen now.

Chapter 1: The Observer

She wanted to get drunk. Really drunk. Passed out, on the floor, not remembering what happened, drunk. Megan didn't bother with the light. Dammit, she had to find that bottle. She knocked over several cans in her haste to find the tequila she had up there.

Megan stretched, her tears mingling with makeup and ones she had already shed. _Fuck._ Where was that tequila? She cried harder, silently, and her strangled breathing was the only thing heard in the room. If there had been anyone else to hear what was happening i in the room.

She struggled with the bottle, at the same time feeling ill. She wanted to taste that tequila, yet she wanted to throw up at the same time. Don, David, even Charlie had almost come to an agreement to stay together, with her, for the night. Instead, they had split up. She figured they would account for much of the alcohol sales in Los Angeles tonight, or at least most of the consumption of alcohol, tonight. Megan took a swig out of the bottle. That felt better.

She hoped Colby was going straight to hell. She wasn't religious, but if there was a hell, he better have a suite down there. How could he? What the hell did he think he was doing? They had trusted that son of a bitch, and now, she was breaking. She had just figured out that maybe, she didn't want to be an agent anymore. Being an agent had been her whole life. Gee, thanks, Colby for restoring her faith. _You asshole._

Even more tears poured down her face. This was so screwed up. God, she hadn't felt this…God, maybe never. She was drowning now, wondering what the hell she was going to do. Hand in her resignation? That was pretty much a no-option, until things blew over. If they ever blew over. She knew that as of right now, the AD and Don probably wouldn't let her resign. She chewed her lip. She was stuck, left to deal with the mess they had been left in. They were messes.

Trusting someone was hard. Megan had never been good with her trust, and now, she knew why. You trust someone, you let them in, they let you down. She knew this – she lived by it. She got to LA, met some people who actually cared, and suddenly dropped who she was? She cursed herself for trusting him. She should've known, she should've read more into his cryptic comments, she should've done something…she was considered one of the best profilers in the country, dammit! _And she couldn't figure out that one of her best friends was a Chinese spy!_

The little voice in her mind cackled. _But you had a feeling, sometimes, didn't you?_ She blinked; her throat dry. _You knew something wasn't quite right sometimes – when he gave you that guarded look, even though you were just kidding around. You knew, and you didn't once stop to try and figure out what it meant at all, did you? No. And now look where you are._

Another drink of the alcohol banished any of the thoughts that she might've known. Yet another one banished her self-doubt, at least temporarily.

God, the look on David's face…her thoughts were barely connected anymore, but she held onto the memory of David storming into the interrogation room, with her in tow, ready to kill Colby for being that lying, scum-of-the-Earth asshole he had been. Shock was written on her friend's face, with anger, disbelief; bewilderment…even Don had that slightly stunned look, as he caught her eye. He thought – she thought – they thought…forget what they thought. That was over. They could think whatever the hell they wanted – it didn't change the fact that they all had been wrong. She hated being wrong.

And standing there, just watching the SUV leave, taking Dwayne Carter, whom they kind of despised, and Colby, whom they now hated, broke her heart. Occasionally, she suspected she had no heart, but she had one at that moment. She wanted out, David was actually crying; back at the office, Don was watching his entire crumble and having to face his own feelings of betrayal. Everything really was screwed up. She had no idea what to do, how to feel, or anything like that. The only true emotion she could come up with was some sort of emptiness. Drained, exhausted, empty – what did it matter when she was getting pretty close to the level of drunk she wanted to be?

Colby was a traitor. He betrayed their country, he betrayed the cluster of friends that they had. God. When you think someone's a friend…her walls of distrust were starting to build themselves up again, no thanks to him. Hey, one good thing about today: she could blame everything on someone else. She'd drink to that.

Her tears kept coming, steadily, as she put down the bottle. She hadn't cried this much…in a few weeks, when she had figured out everything was indeed, going to change. The assignment had been tough on her, and she had been hoping to come back and unwind a little, maybe share a few laughs with the team, as they normally did. But no. She ended up back in LA, caught up in a case that didn't allow any downtime, at all, and had the little bubble the team liked to inhabit blown up.

She needed someone to talk her out of this cloud, someone to help her get over the doubts. She would've called Larry, but he was in a monastery. _Oh, good time to go soul searching_, her bitter half proclaimed. The nice, caring Megan managed to put her two cents in: _Nobody really knew this was going to happen._

_But you had your doubts._

Megan picked up the bottle of tequila, and tested its weight. She took one last swig out of it, placed it down on the table, and said, as clearly as she could, "Fuck you, Colby Granger."

It was the closest thing to satisfaction, outside of killing him, which she could possibly get.


	2. The Friend

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews. They are always appreciated.

Chapter 2: The Friend

David watched the vehicle drive away, with Colby and Dwayne Carter inside. This night had been surreal. He wished it made sense to him. Colby Granger was a spy for the Chinese. He had been lying to them all along. David couldn't believe it. He would rather not believe it, but in this instance, he really had no choice. From the rigidity of Megan's spine beside him, he knew that she had been shocked, too. He felt a little better. If something could shock Megan to this magnitude, he figured it was alright for him to be the same way.

_Colby, man, you're a damn better liar than I gave you credit for._ But…wow. Would he have suspected this? Never in a million years. David was used to loyalty. Yeah, life sucked when he was a kid. But friends didn't lie. They stuck together as much as they could. His leaving and never coming back was maybe the worst thing anyone could've done. David knew that loyalty wasn't always present in his line of work, or life in general, but this was new. His friend, partner, colleague was a spy. And not the kind that kids wanted to be when they were in school. The kind, which if they were found out, would be killed. The kind that hurt people, for their job. David gritted his teeth in anger. Could anyone be that cold, to just lie blatantly to someone's face, someone who was _supposed_ to be on the right side of the law? The side which involved them protecting people, not selling out to whomever paid the most. David almost could wrap his mind around it. David a few years ago wouldn't have. Now…

He could see the anger in Megan's face. Of all of them, she seemed the most likely candidate to explode, ever since she had come home, he was worried about her frame of mind. Don was still processing, he assumed, because his boss hadn't killed Granger when he should have and might have. He had tagged Don as the most likely candidate earlier…but now, it was Megan. Or maybe him.

His outburst during Colby's questioning…the second time he had seen his friend questioned by Don…was uncharacteristic, to say the least. He had never felt so angry, so out of control, when Colby was talking. Megan's "Oh my God," had been enough to propel him in there, yelling. The yelling, that was all he could remember. Not even what he had been saying came back. He remembered Don pulling him back, and Megan's angry shouts. Why had Don been the semi-calm one here? Shock, he put it down to, just shock. Don wasn't prone to staying calm during a case in which he felt someone's loyalties being compromised, but maybe someone needed to be calm. He knew it hadn't been him.

Watching the SUV drive away…David felt some detachment. If he was detached, then maybe this nightmare wasn't happening. You pretend something isn't happening, then your lie becomes true after a while. This time, there wasn't going to be a lie big enough to cover up what was happening. Colby. A Chinese spy. He had been for at least two years, but David figured it might have started around the time he'd met Dwayne Carter. He knew guys like that. Willing to do anything. He wondered why Colby had become a spy. He didn't think anyone like Colby would've been able to do something like that - but then, again, they'd been lied to the entire time. So his partner was someone completely different than what David had come to know. If that wasn't the ultimate betrayal, he didn't know what was.

He heard a deep breath from Megan beside him. She sounded like she was crying. "I can't believe this is happening," he murmured, half to her, the other half to himself. If he said it out loud, it might not be true. He was doing everything he could to turn back time and somehow fix whatever had gone wrong. Whatever it was, he had to find it. Just something to make it go away.

Megan shook her head. "I can't do this anymore." She ran towards the car they had taken there, leaving David to just stand in the spot he had been glued in. He watched Megan lean her body on the car, hunched over and shaking. David broke his stance to comfort her.

_Colby, you bastard, I hope you're glad that you've managed to wreck this. I hope you're happy. You sold out for some money. Asshole. _David shut his eyes, remembering their camaraderie – the dinners, jokes, late nights with the entire team - before tonight.

_God, that seems like a lifetime ago. _


	3. The Leader

**A/N: **Again, thanks very much for the reviews!

Chapter 3: The Leader

Living in the moment. It was what most people did. It's hard to think of the consequences, when you have no time to think. Much of your life is based on just reacting to whatever happens around you. His job was based on reacting to whatever was happening around him, most of the time. Even though he was the leader, the proactive one, he often ended up reacting to whatever went on.

At this point in time, someone had to be calm. He was the leader, so by definition, he had to lead by example, which translated to being calm, which was not in his nature. Don wanted nothing more to fly off the handle and murder Colby, in the interrogation room. He would've, too. But he couldn't. Megan was a mess; David was even more homicidal than Don…so Don got to be the one to keep a cool head. And it was hard. _You bet your ass it was hard._

Betrayal. You wanna talk about ways to piss off Don Eppes? There was one. Betrayal often came coupled with lying, another thing he despised. Colby had been lying to them all along. Damn, Don already knew he had issues with trusting his team, but Colby just gave plausible reason to distrust the other two, whom he was sure could be trusted. But they might fall prey to his anger in the next few months. Even when David and Megan had proved themselves more than enough.

He sighed. Who's to say they'd be able to stay together as a team? After something like this, they'd be put through months of inquiries, interrogations…he could see it. They would want to know if his team had been involved. If he had been involved. God. That would be fun.

They'd all have to get cleared before they could go back out in the field, too – he could just envision his next session with Branford. It would be great. A smile played around Don's mouth. It was that feeling – that anger, sadness, whatever, that made him feel nervously happy. This would be the time for the question of, why the hell did he feel happy? Emotions never made any sense. It was like being at his mother's funeral. He alternated between hurting and wanting to laugh. Right now, he alternated between going to wherever they were holding Colby right now and killing him, and feeling some sort of weird, happy satisfaction…?

Don shook his head. Either he was too drunk to determine what was going on inside his mind, or he was in shock. Judging by the mostly full shot beside him – and the fact that it was still his first one – he wasn't at all drunk. Shock, bewilderment, confusion…Colby was not the type, or so it seemed, to be able to pull of an elaborate guise like this…but they had been wrong about him, so who was to say that Colby couldn't do other things they hadn't suspected of him? Simple ex-Army, small-town Idaho boy, honest FBI agent – ha. Lying, conniving, treacherous Chinese spy – yes.

Bitter – hell, yeah. He was bitter. Butter that Colby had been lying to them all along, bitter that another one of his agents had been endangered by this lie, bitter that he had begun to trust Colby – that he had taken Branford's advice and attempted to trust an elaborate ruse to feed information to other countries.

The age old advice, in which it was said that it was easier to lie to those closest to a person, was proven true. _One of the only things that was right tonight_, Don thought, grimly. How could they be so wrong? They were supposed to able to figure things out like that. _He_ was supposed to able to figure things out like that. _That's what you get paid for, to solve crimes. One's in front of you and you can't even see it._

They found the Janus list. They solved the mystery of who was trying to kill Taylor Ashby. That would've made Don happy – genuine happiness, not this fake happy he was dealing with – on any old day, any old case. But they also found…well, he knew what they had found.

He was shocked, angry, annoyed, worried – pick an emotion that carried any sort of negative connotation with it, he was probably feeling it. He took his second sip out of the glass, more out of habit of drinking whatever he was holding, than anything else. The liquid rushed down his throat, easing the dry passageway.

Don shut his eyes. He was tired. Tired of work, tired of dealing. He wondered if they'd get some time off along the line. He needed some time off now. Don Eppes had taken something like ten vacation/sick days over his years with the FBI, even only taking four days of compassionate leave around the time of his mother's death. Staying home and doing nothing for a few days might be a nice change.

That would ruin the idea of living in the moment. If he stayed home, he would have to think. Analyze. Figure out what went wrong, and where. Another trait. After you've reacted, you end up with time. Time to agonize, time to feel guilty, time to wonder and time to accept what had happened. He sighed, heavily.

"You alright, Don?" Charlie had been watching him, studying, trying to make sense of his older brother. Don felt another smile come. Charlie just wanted to know what was going on. Some things never really changed, did they?

"I could ask the same of you, Chuck," Don replied, seeing Alan's watchful gaze. He tried to keep his tone light, carefree.

Charlie stared straight ahead, clutching onto his shot glass. "Yeah, you could." He wasn't as adept at hiding his current state of mind.

Don bowed his head. Just another person who'd fallen apart today. And he couldn't but feel, somehow, it was his fault, for pulling Charlie into this.


	4. The Mathematician

**A/N: **This one sorta took off on me…just a heads up. Ever notice how characters have a tendancy to do what you think they won't?

Chapter 4: The Mathematician

He wondered what the odds of this event were. Hs mind itched to calculate and get the exact numbers, but his heart was adamant that this was an anomaly. He decided it would remain that way. Unsolved. He ignored the repetitive buzzing of his mind.

When Charlie first started consulting for Don, he had been warned of what he would see. Murders. Murderers. Rapes, theft, conspiracy, terrorism, "capitalist bastards committing major crimes and getting off," fraud and the list went on. He hadn't been warned about the possibility of treason within the group of people who were supposed to be solving the rimes, not committing them.

He hadn't been warned because it hadn't been thought of.

Ashby's voice had been so flat, so blunt and matter-of-fact, that Charlie had almost forgotten the gravity of the situation. It seemed like a simple explanation. The spark of excitement about finding the Janus list had dissipated as the names were listed off. "_FBI agent Colby Granger, also for the Chinese._"

Many of the most important, or most beautiful, or most life-shattering things were stated with such simplicity. There was no need for fancy adjectives, complex words or long-winded descriptions that were reminiscent of nineteenth century novels, before getting to the point of a statement. "I love you." "I do." "I'm leaving." "_FBI agent Colby Granger, also for the Chinese._" That was simple enough. The occupation, the name, who they were feeding the information to. It was who was doing the spying, though, that had shattered an entire FBI team tonight.

Charlie hadn't been able to breathe. He had assured himself that it would pass, he would get past that moment of disbelief and that he would call Don with the names – but Colby wouldn't be on the list.

The moment came and went. He could breathe again, but the Janus list still stated that one Colby Granger was indeed a spy. He had called Don, his hand shaking.

Charlie, after the call, and in one of his rare moments where he didn't know what to think, had jut sat there. He had blindly stared ahead. What do you think? He didn't know. Charles Eppes did not have an answer for this problem. He gathered dimly that Amita couldn't help in finding an answer, as she too, sat and stared.

He absorbed knowledge faster than it could be given to him. He could wrap his mind around concepts at eleven that some people couldn't understand when they were sixty. Colby granger being a Chinese spy was one of the few concepts he was afraid he would never twist his mind around. It was improbable, was being the operative word here. Nearly impossible. But the evidence proved otherwise.

Charlie slowly climbed out of his own little reverie to look around. He wondered if Don wanted to do something – like kill - to Colby as much as he did.

Don's eyes were closed. Charlie felt the overwhelming urge to try and do something. "You alright, Don?"

"I could ask the same of you, Chuck." There was a forced smile on his brother's face. Again, Charlie felt a stab of guilt. He didn't know why.

"I guess you could." Charlie stared at the ceiling. He found himself studying the patterns in the wood.

He also found himself wondering what was going to happen.

Because, right now, none of the last six hours made any sense to him.

* * *

He couldn't sleep, at all. That was so typical. Charlie was disgusted with himself. He needed the sleep. Yet, like so many other nights, he was in the garage. 

Honestly, he couldn't remember the day he had first come out to the garage to work or to think. All he knew was that he was suddenly in the garage all the time. He was addicted to his time out there. And now that he was out there, he felt the urge to pick up a piece of chalk. The chalkboards were calling to him. the ever-present numbers were begging him to unleash them.

"Charlie?" Don wandered in, looking sleep-rumpled and more than exhausted. "What are you doing?"

"Just sitting here," he said hoarsely. "Thinking."

"What about?" Don frowned. "Charlie, you weren't thinking about…?"

"P versus NP?" he finished. "Yeah, I was." Charlie looked down at his hand, which was still looking for that piece of chalk.

"I thought you said you weren't going to do that anymore," Don muttered.

"I'm not." Charlie shut his eyes. "I wanted to."

Don chuckled. "I bet in other families they don't lecture each other about doing unsolvable math problems."

"No, I bet not."

"Yeah," Don agreed. "Yeah." He turned away. "G'night, Charlie."

Charlie reached for the chalk. The presence of his brother hadn't brought on the thought of P vs. NP, it brought another problem. One that could be solved, hopefully.

The clacking of the chalk against the board soothed him. The idea of figuring the odds that Colby was a spy unnerved him. He was afraid of the answer.

He wondered, no matter what the answer would be, if his heart could convince his head that it really was an anomaly.


	5. The Traitor

**A/N: **Finally, to the chapter I originally wanted to start with…but that wouldn't be very fun, if I had just made this about Colby's reaction, now would it? At least in my opinion.

Chapter 5: The Traitor

Yeah, he got it. Everyone knew how they would feel in any situation. They all knew how they would feel if they shot someone, if they were told they had a deathly disease, if they were the one going through whatever you were going through. For years, he had glowered at whoever had decided to give him their unwelcome opinion on the situation, but he might've even agreed with that person right now.

He wasn't going to be allowed to talk to anyone who would've told him that right now. He figured his existence would be him and whatever guard was holding him in for a while. It was to be expected. Colby grimaced. _That's the way it is._ He was here, waiting for news of his fate. Justice for all. He wished he could drink to that.

He sat heavily on the "bed," for lack of a better word. He had been nervous from the start; working as a spy was never really a safe profession. One slip and he might've ended up in jail. With three amazingly perceptive colleagues, he had been constantly on edge, waiting for them to notice something.

That slip had come and gone. How the hell was he supposed to know that they would get stuck on the case of Taylor Ashby and the Janus List? How the hell was he supposed to know that Charlie would figure out how to get at the Janus List through all of the cryptic clues that Ashby left them?

He should've assumed the last one. The Whiz Kid always came through for his brother, no matter how tough the problem was. Colby gritted his teeth. What was wrong with him? Did the sunshine and salt water of California mess with his mind? He had allowed himself to get close to the team. David was good guy. Don was a tough boss, but otherwise alright. Megan was good for a laugh, if he needed one. He let himself get close, and ended up feeling like crap when it was all over.

"_You aren't cut out to be a double agent, Mr. Granger,"_ the official had told him snidely. _"You might have to get rid of that conscience." _He didn't need to add the, _"Good luck with that."_

His conscience had brought him here, hadn't it? Dwayne had brought him into the fold of the Chinese, claiming they needed someone like Colby Granger to help them out. God, that guy was full of shit. Colby closed his eyes and stared at the ceiling. He had known that from the start. _Yeah, but you listened to him anyway…shoulda got a backbone, man._

He swallowed, hard. Woulda, shoulda, coulda. Little late for that now, eh?

Guilt. The guilt was penetrating the armour he had built so carefully, that by the time he ad joined the LA team, he was ready to lie about anything and everything. That had vanished when he had spent a few hours in the company of Don, David and Megan. They were so damn likeable. He thought this might be an alright job. He thought it might be a crappy job after the first pang of guilt had hit him.

The worst thing was, he felt more guilty about what he had done to his colleagues than what he had done to his country.

He stared at his hands now, wondering what they must think of him. Since when had he cared whatever anyone thought of him? _Since you got here._ Since he had come to Los Angeles and found a surrogate family when he had thought he would find a cold existence.

_You know what they say when you assume…_

No, what did they say when you assumed you'd be able to pull off the elaborate lie you created so you could commit treason? He didn't expect the unforgiving walls to give him an answer. He didn't expect anyone to give him an answer.

He wasn't angry. He wasn't about to pound to the concrete wall with his hand, or try to do something drastic. He was numb, sitting there in disbelief. He wanted to throw up with the unbelievable disgust he felt. He wanted to cry, even though he hadn't, in years. He had done his duty, right? He said he would work for them, plain and simple. Five generations of duty, honour, and obedience. He obeyed. _He obeyed the other side._ He forgot about the side he was supposed to have obeyed. Is it possible to obey conflicting orders at the same time? He had no idea. He didn't think he had enough time to find out. If Don had anything to do with it, Colby would get in the needle before he could have a chance to explain, if he was allowed to explain.

He could just hear everyone saying, "What is there to explain? What can you do to convince us otherwise?" They were right, of course. Colby had nothing left to say.

Nothing that would help change their minds. No matter how much he wanted to.


End file.
